


Fools

by owlsshadows



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:49:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23482696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlsshadows/pseuds/owlsshadows
Summary: Usually, Tendou does most of the talking; he always has a comment, opinion, or idea to share. This time, however, is one of those rare moments when Tendou shares the silence with Wakatoshi, letting his sweaty hand and giddy smile do all the talking for him.In which Tendou tries to get Wakatoshi to admit he will miss him after they graduate; the result, however, ends up being way different from how he imagined it.
Relationships: Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 40
Kudos: 574





	Fools

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow these two always help me out of my writer's block.

“Say, Wakatoshi, what will you do without me?“ Tendou asks. “You know, once we graduate and…“

Tendou's voice fades away into nothingness, and no matter how Wakatoshi stares at those thin, wobbly lips, no sound escapes them again; a clear sign that albeit leaving his sentence unfinished, Tendou has no intention to continue. Wakatoshi takes a moment to decrypt Tendou's words, and another as he contemplates the answer to his best knowledge, reviewing his plans for the future and choosing the aspect that seems to be the most relevant.

“I will pursue a professional career as a volleyball player,“ he says.

“I know that,“ Tendou puffs.

He is not impressed with the answer, Wakatoshi recognizes, searching for ways to expand on his reply. “I also got accepted to Sendai University. I will major in business administration,“ he adds.

Tendou scrunches up his nose. “I know that too."

Wakatoshi blinks.

Of course, Tendou knows. They discussed their future plans plenty of times. In fact, if he could not remember that Tendou wanted to be a divorce lawyer ‘to free unhappy people from the shackles of their misguided past decisions’ Wakatoshi would feel unworthy of being called Tendou's friend.

On a side note though, Wakatoshi cannot imagine Tendou as a divorce lawyer… or a kindergarten teacher, or an astronaut, or anything that is not his best friend, Tendou, lying on his bed with a long-forgotten Jump magazine crushed under his elbow and looking up at Wakatoshi with those gorgeous big burgundy eyes Wakatoshi could die for any day.

"My question is not about what will you do with your life but what will you do without me in your life.“

“I’m afraid I don’t understand your question, then. You will be in my life,“ Wakatoshi says with conviction.

“Will I?”

“Why, won’t you?” Wakatoshi raises a brow at the challenging tone.

“I quit volleyball, Wakatoshi. I applied for a university on the other side of town. Sure, we will keep in contact, but will it be the same as it is now, casually hanging out in each other’s dorm room, sharing meals, sweating side by side during practice? I don’t think so.”

“You try to manipulate me into saying something,” Wakatoshi says. There is no accusation in his voice; he is simply stating facts. 

“Yes I do,” Tendou admits, the ghost of a smile appearing in the corner of his lips for a fleeting moment. Then it is gone, replaced by a mysterious expression Wakatoshi has yet to decipher.

Wakatoshi takes a moment of self-reflection. He replays their conversation in his head, starting from when Tendou had appeared on his doorstep complaining about the cold to the moment right now, as they stare each other in the eye.

He does not consider himself to be stupid, in fact, he is in the top half as far as ranking by school performance goes. Where he is good in subjects he can pass by memorizing facts or applying rules like history and maths; he struggles with the more abstract subjects such as literature. Communication – quite obviously, he fears – is not one of his fortes either. He could never understand the nuances of irony or read the small clues of body language. Watching Tendou, however, he feels like he is continuously learning.

The head tipped sideways, lips puckered, fingers tapping an unsteady rhythm on the open pages of manga: Tendou is impatient.

Wakatoshi is not unwilling to admit his shortcomings – he had done so countless times in the past – but Tendou always seems happier when he tries to solve the puzzle instead. And, as Wakatoshi loves to see Tendou entertained, he takes a deep breath, submerging into the swamp of words, subtle hints laid out carefully to lead him to confess something to Tendou.

A 'life without Tendou' is even harder to imagine than a world in which Tendou breaks up marriages as his profession. While Wakatoshi can, if he focuses strongly, imagine Tendou parading in a courtroom in a suit, his brain categorically rejects the idea of a world in which Tendou does not play an integral part in his life.

He wants Tendou in his life, now and forever. He wants Tendou's crooked smile to be the first thing that greets him at breakfast and Tendou’s sing-song voice to fill his day. He wants that knock on his door – once a surprise visit, now part of their evening routine – and wants Tendou to march right in and make himself comfortable in Wakatoshi’s room, splaying over his bed to read the new issue of his favorite manga.

This, Wakatoshi realizes, might just be what Tendou was trying to manipulate him into admitting.

Wakatoshi offers a solution instead. "If we move in together, you will be in my life to a similar extent as you are now, maybe even more," he says.

The manga under Tendou's elbow rips as Tendou rises up suddenly, eyes blown wide. He parts his lips but says nothing before he collapses back on the bed, planting his face in Wakatoshi's bedsheets. The noise he makes is closer to a penguin than a human, a high pitched shriek Wakatoshi can only translate as a voiced surprise.

"Tendou?" he asks softly, leaning over and tucking Tendou's hair behind his ear to move it out of his face. 

Tendou’s face is just as bright a shade of red as his hair, his blush running from his temples down to where his neck disappears into his hoodie. “Hn,” he says, swatting Wakatoshi’s hand away gently.

“Did I say something wrong?” Wakatoshi asks again. He could be mistaken – it has never been easy to read Tendou – but the signs he had been picking up were all but encouraging before.

“Wakatoshi.” Tendou sounds pained, but he reaches for Wakatoshi’s hand blindly, giving it a squeeze. “Just… give me a moment please.”

Wakatoshi nods, then, realizing Tendou cannot see it, returns the squeeze reassuringly.

A few moments pass, and for the first time in his life, Wakatoshi feels the stretching silence uncomfortable. He wonders if he was too forward, or his offer preposterous. He thinks back on the evenings they spent together, sitting so close he could feel Tendou’s warmth on his side, with their limbs tangled and Tendou’s head occasionally – and lately more often than not – on his shoulder, studying for an exam, reading manga together, or watching one of Tendou’s picks for ‘worst horror movie of the history’.

Was he reading too much into the atmosphere?

“Sorry,” Wakatoshi hears, dragging him back to the present. 

Tendou’s voice is soft, but it does not sound sad or hurt. What is more, he chuckles as he lifts Wakatoshi’s pillow off his flushed face. His hair spills across Wakatoshi’s white sheets like petals of a flower.

It reminds Wakatoshi of the dahlias in his grandmother’s garden.

As Tendou looks up at him with his crooked little smile, Wakatoshi finds he has never seen anything quite as beautiful.

“I wanted to make you say you'll miss me,“ Tendou says, rolling to his back. “I'd have never expected you ask me to move in together!“ he laughs. 

There are nerves there, definitely, in the way his voice shakes. 

Wakatoshi squeezes his hand again, leaning down to be in his line of sight.

“Do you not want to move in with me?“

“Of course I want to,“ Tendou replies, and for a second there he seems almost bashful, “but you sure don't follow the regular order of things, do you?“

“What do you mean?“

“Usually, people ask each other out on dates first, then they hold hands and kiss and do other romantic stuff before they decide to move in together,“ Tendou squints at him.

Wakatoshi knows that it is a taunt just as much as it is a joke and, from the way the corner of Tendou's eyes wrinkle keen for a reply, he deducts that Tendou seeks clarifications, too.

“I don’t want to miss you,” Wakatoshi says, thumb drawing circles over the skin of Tendou’s wrist. “Ever.”

“Do I take this as a confession of love? A proclamation of eternal friendship?”

With his free hand, Wakatoshi reaches out to cup Tendou’s face. Tendou lets him. His skin is warm under Wakatoshi’s palm, his bone fit right into Wakatoshi’s hand as if his face was meant to be held by him.

_Both._

_It is both._

_It has always been both._

Wakatoshi says nothing. He leans closer, fingers slipping in between Tendou’s thick, ungelled hair. Tendou does not blink; and Wakatoshi suspects he stopped breathing, too, staring up at him.

He hesitates only for a second before he dives in for the first kiss of his life.

As their lips touch, Tendou hums contently, releasing Wakatoshi’s hand to immediately claw at his back, pulling him on top of him eagerly. He plants an open-mouthed follow-up to their first, chaste kiss over Wakatoshi’s lips, and smiles up at him brighter than the sun.

“So bold, Wakatoshi.”

“You don’t seem to mind it.”

“Don’t I?” Tendou beckons. “What makes you believe that I would fall head over heels in love with you after one, clumsy kiss? Where does this confidence come from?”

Wakatoshi moves his thumb across Tendou’s face, plastering it over his lips to stop him from talking.

“I admit I might have jumped too far ahead. But when I realized you wanted me to say I want you in my life, I thought you might want me to want you in my life because you want me in yours and I wanted to provide a solution...”

“That,” Tendou peels Wakatoshi’s finger off his lips, “is the most convoluted thing I’ve heard you say, and it's simultaneously the least and the most Wakatoshi thing I’ve ever heard. Now, if you kissed me again that would be great, we need to work on your technique.”

If something could be said of Ushijima Wakatoshi, it would be that he never says 'no' to practice. Their second kiss – or is the third? Wakatoshi is not sure what is the proper way to count kisses – is much softer, more tender, lingering. Tendou takes over the lead, guiding Wakatoshi with small, yet firm gestures; a hand runs up to his nape angling his head so they line up better together, a tongue pries his lips open, a chuckle, resonating in the back of his head, gives him all the feedback he ever needed.

When they stop kissing, Tendou scoots over and Wakatoshi lies down beside him. For a while, they do not say anything.

Usually, Tendou does most of the talking; he always has a comment, opinion, or idea to share. This time, however, is one of those rare moments when Tendou shares the silence with Wakatoshi, letting his sweaty hand and giddy smile do all the talking for him.

Wakatoshi understands.

It is that busy time of the day when the sun finally disappears in the valley, and all the colors and shadows rearrange themselves. The red-orange of the sky turns pale purple-grey, shadows grow long and heavy. Lights come alive on top of lamp posts outside the dormitory building, chatter livens up the courtyard as students start their thrice-a-day migration towards the cafeteria building.

Tendou draws lines along Wakatoshi’s temple, one after another, finally stationing his hand by Wakatoshi's ear. He gives out a sigh, soft, shaky, almost as if it was a laugh that got stifled, yet sounding so full of relief Wakatoshi cannot categorize it other than a sigh.

“Hn?” Wakatoshi asks.

“I always thought you would pick up on my signs, but never quite believed it,” Tendou says. “It’s… so wild. Having kissed you.”

“I don’t think we were wild,” Wakatoshi says. “If you compare it to those couples in the movies you watch…”

“That’s not what I meant,” Tendou chuckles. “It’s wild that I got to kiss you,” he repeats, brushing their noses together. “I always dreamt of it. Well, not always, but for the most part of our second year and the entirety of the third, and yet I thought that the probability was so low it was basically non-existent.”

“Why?”

“Pfft. You’re Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

“Is that enough reason to believe I wouldn’t kiss you?”

“Romance and Ushijima Wakatoshi never seemed to co-exist on the same planet, at the same time. Not for me, at least.”

Wakatoshi clears his throat. “Say,” he starts, “where do people usually go on dates?”

Tendou’s smile is like that of the Cheshire Cat. His entire body moves with that smile, curls upwards, fills the space around Wakatoshi.

“It depends, Wakatoshi. Wherever people think they could do something interesting.”

“Would it be a date if I accompanied you to that anime convention you talked about yesterday?”

“It could be,” Tendou laughs. “I apologize, Wakatoshi, but I was sure you would suggest going to a pro volleyball game for our first date.”

“You seem to be glad you were mistaken.”

“I am,” Tendou says, tugging Wakatoshi closer. “I was very wrong about a lot of things, and I couldn’t be happier about it.”

Wakatoshi hugs him, breathing in the mixture of Tendou’s shampoo and his own fabric softener.

He wonders if Tendou kicks around in his sleep, adamant to stay like this until the morning.

Eventually, Tendou pushes him off the bed with a laugh. “If we stay any longer, there won’t be anything left in the cafeteria,” he reasons and holds out his hand to Wakatoshi who takes it wordlessly.

He wonders whether Tendou, who wants to be a divorce lawyer, believes in love.

He suspects he does but leaves it for after the dinner to ask.


End file.
